One Down, Many to Go
by JustAMessyHairedGirl
Summary: Sansa is forced to marry Jaimie instead of Tyrion and things go a bit differently...


"Father this is ridiculous! Sansa is a child!" Bellowed Jaimie, thumping his gold hand hard onto the table.

"Do not speak to me like that. You will marry her. You will forsake your position in the kings guard and you will claim Casterly Rock. My word is final." Stated Tywin, raising one eyebrow and daring him to contradict. Jaimie was floored, he looked across at his siblings for aid, Tyrion looked relieved and Cersei, his golden twin, well she looked delighted.

"Oh don't be mad brother. She is young, beautiful and dumb. Perfect for you." Cersei smirked.

Jaimie screamed internally, why would they ask this of him? Why wasn't Cersei angry? He couldn't be expected to marry some kid and leave his king. He rose unsteadily to his feet, unable to stare at Cersei and Tywin's matching gloating faces.

"Goodnight father." He bowed stiffly before he raced from the room, shoving an empty suit of armour to the ground in his frustration, he could hear it clanging all the way back to his chambers.

"Have you heard the news little dove?" Cersei asked sweetly, running her fingers through Sansa's hair roughly.

"Yes my queen, I am most excited." Sansa exhaled, smiling softly up into those sharp green eyes.

"Mmhmm, and why shouldn't you be? Jaimie is the most beautiful man in Westeros and a most noble knight." She said, all Sansa heard in her mind was "Kingslayer", as if Cersei had read her thoughts she began winding some of Sansa's hair around her fist and then pulled it back sharply until Sansa's eyes watered.

"He is so far above you little dove, you do not deserve the golden lion, never presume to think that he will ever love you or even like you! You will obey him, fuck him, give him little cubs and be miserable. You should never look into his eyes, you aren't his equal you are his slave, act like one." She said cruelly, releasing the hair violently and storming from the room. Sansa watched the door shut in the reflection, she wasn't surprised to see an absence of tears in her large eyes, crying was no use and the queens words didn't hurt her, she picked up her brush and continued to sweep through her long hair in even strokes.

A young squire tried to assist Jaime with his wedding suit but he shoved him aside, using precious moments to wiggle himself into the heavy crimson and gold costume. He had admired it as a child, looking forward to the day he would wear it as Cersei would walk down the aisle to him, in a gold dress, her eyes like emeralds. He snorted, what a fool to have ever seen her as anything but the treacherous bitch that she is, his right hand ached at the thought of her. The walk to the sept was silent, he knew he must look haggard but he didn't care, his left hand gripped the hilt of his decorative sword tightly as he strode past the hordes of court people waiting in their pews. On the alter stood only Tywin and the septon, both stony faced as he took his place before them. He knew the moment Sansa entered as a mass of bodies stood and turned at her entrance, he heard many gasps from the women and watched his own fathers eyes follow his new bride with interest. He heard her skirts rustling as she walked up the few steps and he turned to gaze down at his soon-to-be wife for the first time since Winterfell.

She looked directly in his eyes, he had obviously expected her to be shorter and had a look of surprise on his face when he had turned and they were of an exact height. Sansa didn't smile, she simply turned from him to face the septon. They had laid out a gold dress for her, it had been exquisite and intricate but seeing herself in that colour had made her feel ill. Sansa had ordered all but Shae to leave the room and in the few minutes before the ceremony had hastily changed into a dark grey, Northern style dress with blue hues in the fabric that brought out her eyes, she had unravelled her hair from the intricate Southron braids and worn it loose down her back, all red tangles and wildness, just how they did it in the North. The faces of the court and especially Cersei had been exceptional, one of few good memories she could take from Kings Landing. Another would be the look on Jaimie's face after the shock was gone, the briefest expression of admiration had lit up in his eyes. She didn't listen as she said the words that would bind her to the Kingslayer and only barely felt her mouth moving. When she turned to kiss him Jaime grinned wickedly, pulling her in close to his body and smacking his lips firmly down over hers. She gave no response, just let herself be squished against him until he let go, then the whole sept was cheering. Flowers flew from the hands of people in the aisles as they walked arm in arm down the aisle towards their feast.

Jaime watched her from the corner of his eye as they sat at the table. Down below all hell had broken loose, food and wine coated the floor, more women were on men's laps than on seats and the music had changed from a soft minstrel to a group of bawdy men screaming about the conquests of some sailor. She hardly seemed to take notice, not even flinching when an errant bit of chicken almost hit her. The only physical reaction he had noted was when he had fastened the Lannister cloak to her shoulders and she had shivered. Even when they kissed there was nothing, he was hoping to startle her, liven up those pale cheeks even just from embarrassment but she had not kissed him and when he had looked at her the only colour in her face was the piercing blue of her eyes. She knew he was watching her, he could see her movements had become even more constrained and her eyes were almost fully downcast.

"Are you not enjoying your feast?" He murmured, placing his hand on the arm of her chair and letting it rest there, suggestively.

"Oh yes my… Husband." She answered with a pause and a sweet smile. She could lie, he'd give her that, if he hadn't seen how morose she looked seconds before he would have believed it.

"Do you dread the bedding?" He grinned.

"Not at all. I look forward to doing my duty as your wife, it will be that much easier because you are the great lion of Lannister." She replied. He swore the response stank of sarcasm but her smile was all innocence and her eyes lacked the clever spark that Cersei's had that would have told him she was joking. He turned away from her and drank deeply from his chalice, at least Cersei had warned him what type of girl she was.

Sansa warred with herself. Should she continue with this idiotic facade, playing the dumb, sweet girl that wanted him so badly despite who he was or what he had done? Or should she let down her walls, tell him how disgusted she was by him, how she would never bear him heirs after he had sired Joffrey, how she would never allow herself to stay with a fucking Lannister, let alone the Kingslayer! She would rather marry the imp… No, best let him think he had married a soft-headed, sweetling who only wanted to please. Then he would have no idea what was coming. Her thoughts were interrupted by a slurred cry of "Bedding ceremony!" Soon it was picked up and men swarmed all around her, pulling her long hair and ripping at her beautiful gown, Sansa disappeared into her mind, picturing herself throwing snow balls with Arya and Jon at Winterfell until they had dispersed and she lay, naked as her name day, in the Kingslayer's bed. He entered soon after, long body fully naked, his gold hand glinting in the candle light. She didn't cover herself and observed him openly, watching his eyes take a predatory gleam as he looked at her naked form.

"So pale, so beautiful." He said with a smile, climbing onto the bed beside her. She rolled over to face him and reached out a small hand, running from his jaw bone down to his navel and back up.

"Does my body please you?" She asked quietly, looking up at him through her thick lashes.

"Very much, my little wife." Jaime growled, pulling himself over her and kissing her deeply. His tongue lashed at hers and Sansa's own whipped back, fighting with him for control. She raked her finger nails down his back hard, no doubt leaving deep marks. Jaime was not perturbed and with a quick thrust he entered her. She suppressed the desire to scream, it felt like she was on fire, it was burning and stinging and stretching and she forced herself not to cry out. He started to pulse quickly in and out, sending a shot of pain up her back each time. Sansa bit deeply into his shoulder, causing him to wince but he kept going, she scratched, clawed, bit, even thrust up against him at her own rhythm, almost throwing him off before he became used to it.

He collapsed onto the soft mattress, she had rolled to face away from him, her long her slick with sweat and her breath coming out in ragged gasps. He looked down, blood pooled on the sheet, how much was from her he didn't know. His back, neck and arms were covered in bites and scratches, it had been rough but not bad, she hadn't seemed to reject his advance but her fucking had been wild and harsh. He hadn't expected it to say the least, she was more violent than Cersei had ever been and much more forceful as she thrust up to meet him. Jaime had found himself enjoying the way her sharp tongue jabbed at his and the angry set of her jaw as her nails scraped down his back. He looked over at her, she had slumped slightly and her breathing had evened out, asleep probably. He did wonder about her, so meek when she spoke but so viscous in their bed, he must ask her why she was so angry one day.

She waited until she knew he was asleep. The moon was just past its fullest point as she pressed the knife firmly into his heart. His eyes never opened and he looked peaceful in the pale light, she smiled down at him. He was a pretty moron, she thought sadly, wiping some of his golden locks back from his face. She left the knife sticking from his chest, a small dire wolf done in oak gleamed at the end of it and she rubbed its head gently before standing and pulling on her warmest, plainest garments. She tied her hair up in thick plaits and shoved them under a dark hood, marvelling at how different she already appeared when she glanced in the mirror. No one would check on Jaime until the day after the next, it was expected for the newly weds to spend some days abed before reappearing at court, on the third day though, a maid would come to clean the sheets and then he would be discovered. She opened the heavy bedchamber door, silently thanking the Gods that no one had thought to put a guard at their door. Her passage was silent, she passed no one, and as she descended through the underground exit of the Red Keep Sansa felt an excited hum building at the base of her skull. Soon she would reunite with her family, she had only killed one Lannister but there was so much time to kill more, and she would. Cersei would come for Sansa with all the wrath of a lover and a sister and she smiled at the thought. Cersei would rush into this out of anger and loathing, and it would make it that much easier for Sansa to slice her smug, fat lips from her face if Cersei came to her. She laughed, almost manically, in the stillness of the sewer and whispered to the night…

"A Lannister always pays his debts but the North remembers. And Winter is coming."


End file.
